


Acts of Love

by howlikeagod



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Coulson and May are Skye's parents, F/F, Grant Ward is not a good person, I just want to make sure everyone knows off the bat, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Minor Violence, Past Abuse, Raina is a force of nature, Revenge Plot, everyone hates Grant Ward, that there is a history of violence from Ward to Fitz, unsubtle Whedon references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howlikeagod/pseuds/howlikeagod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo Fitz has a loyal, loving group of friends and a douchebag ex. Obviously, it's up to those friends to avenge him by any means necessary.<br/><br/>The only thing Skye and Jemma are better at than being a couple is leading a convoluted plot for vengeance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short, fluffy Skimmons smut fic that served as a one-day distraction from my longer Daredevil fic, but then it accidentally developed a plot, another central relationship, and an extra 3000 words.
> 
> You're welcome.

Jemma Simmons was deep in thought about derivatives.

They presented a unique problem to her. It wasn’t necessarily that she found them difficult; rather, their broader implications were fascinating in the way a jigsaw puzzle is fascinating. Numbers from other numbers, simultaneously abstract and physical, folded perfectly into Jemma’s understanding of the web of connectivity that makes up the universe. Atoms come from atoms, energy comes from energy, and numbers...

“So,” Skye interrupted her thoughts, appearing next to Jemma’s locker without warning. Jemma nearly dropped her calculus textbook out of shock. “New plan. We sneak into the boy’s locker room during track practice, steal his stuff, smear the sides of his locker with vaseline, and fill it with feathers. Then, we spray paint the word ‘DICKBAG’ across it. Whatddya think?”

Jemma considered for a moment. “I don’t know, Skye. It seems a little, erm, juvenile. Not nearly harsh enough. I still think that the best course of action--”

“We can’t cause him actual bodily harm.” Skye paused. “At least not on school property.”

“And Fitz won’t tell us where he lives,” Jemma sighed. They had been through this conversation before, working in circles back to the fact that: “Fitz thinks we should just drop it.”

“Obviously we can’t do that!” Skye threw an arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders. “Grant fucking Ward needs to pay for what he’s done.”

“Of course he does.” A familiar, half-crazed look came into Jemma’s eyes. She was thirsting for vengeance. “I’m only saying that it needs to be done right.”

“‘If it were done when ‘tis done, then ‘twere well it were done quickly’,” an amused voice quoted. Trip leaned against his own locker, four down from Jemma’s, and grinned. He had been walking with Skye from their shared gym class, and Jemma managed to completely miss his appearance until now.

“Yeah, yeah, I read _Macbeth_ in English too,” Skye said, rolling her eyes. Jemma raised an eyebrow. “Well, I read the SparkNotes,” Skye admitted with a shrug. “Anyway, Trip, how would you feel about getting in on the plan? Got any bright ideas for how we can get it done quickly?”

“I never knew the guy like you all did,” Trip said, “but I know Fitz. I care about him, and based on what I’ve heard about what happened between those two, Ward needs to get his ass knocked down a peg or ten. So I’m in.”

“We’ll need all the help we can get," said Jemma, "if it’s going to be as decisive as I’ve hoped.”

“If not being able to catch him outside of school is the problem, I think I can fix that,” offered Trip. “I still have friends on the wrestling team. Ward is tight with some of the guys there, and even more so with coach Garrett. I can probably get them to tell me where he hangs out these days. I have Chem with a few of them next period, actually.”

Skye and Trip slapped a high five.

“I owe you one, kid,” she called after him as he went down the hallway.

“I’m older than you,” he shouted back, laughing. “Still up for pizza on Friday?”

“I’ll text you!” Skye turned back to Jemma and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Want to come over after school and plot our revenge? Or do homework. I’m flexible.”

Jemma nodded. “I’d love to.”

“And maybe we could do more than that.” Skye smiled coyly. “Phil and Melinda won’t be home for a while.”

Jemma laughed. “It’s so strange that you call your parents by their first names. If I did that, I’d be grounded for a month.”

“I only say it to my dad’s face. If I said it where my mom could hear, I don’t want to even think about what she’d do.”

“I find it difficult to believe your mother doesn’t hear _everything_ ,” Jemma said as they walked hand-in-hand to Computer Science.

 

* * *

 

Skye always spent her free period the same way: in a secluded corner of the hallway behind the auditorium, with her headphones on and her laptop out. Nobody, except the occasional janitor, had ever bothered her there before, but today she felt the prickling sensation of being watched.

She looked up to see the hem of a flower-patterned skirt and immediately sighed. She took her headphones off anyway, knowing that a painful conversation was inevitable no matter what she did to avoid it. She was cornered.

“I hear you’re trying to ruin Grant Ward’s life,” Raina said. She sounded acutely, but haughtily, interested. Skye had never known her to sound any other way. “I would like to offer my help.”

“No thanks, Raina. I don’t really feel like making a deal with the devil today.” Skye stood up and tried shoulder her way past the deceptively waifish girl.

“I’m not a bad person, Skye.” At this, Skye heaved another beleaguered sigh. Raina continued. “I don’t understand why you’re always so cold toward me.”

“That’s rich, coming from the ice queen herself,” Skye laughed humorlessly.

Raina smiled. Her smile, as usual, didn’t quite reach her owl-like eyes.

“I won’t argue with that,” she conceded. “But what have I ever done to you?”

“You almost got Jemma kicked out of the science club,” Skye said. “In case you forgot about that little incident.” She could feel herself getting angry. That was never productive, when it came to Raina.

“You know as well as I do that she was flouting a long list of school rules.”

Skye scoffed. “As if you care about those.”

“Listen, Skye.” Raina pursed her lips. “Maybe I wanted to get in good with a certain chemistry teacher, and maybe the most effective way to do that was to tell him who was stealing all his precious chemicals. She got away with a slap on the wrist, anyway. It was nothing personal. It was all part of paying a debt, or making sure that a future one would have to be paid.”

“Is that what this is?” Skye asked. “Are you expecting me to owe you a favor? Because I can tell you right now, that is never going to happen.”

Raina’s expression darkened. For a moment, Skye thought, she looked almost human, instead of like some automaton lurching straight out of the Uncanny Valley.

“I have my own reasons for wanting to see Grant inconvenienced.”

Skye didn’t say anything, trying to figure out how much hidden agenda could be behind what Raina said.

“I don’t dislike you, Skye,” Raina continued. “Let me help you. I have connections. If you need anything, here’s my number.” She handed Skye a folded piece of floral stationary. “Don’t lose that. I don’t give it to just anyone, you know.”

And with that, Raina flounced off before Skye could tell her where to shove her stupid cell phone number.

Later, Skye made sure to put the number in her own phone. Just in case.

 

* * *

 

“It’s ridiculous,” Skye said for the millionth time as she and Jemma got to her house, “that my dad has this classic car collection and I’m stuck driving my shitty van.”

“You love that van,” Jemma pointed out, also for the millionth time. “You’d live in it if you could.”

“Yeah, but when you love something, you reserve the right to complain about it.”

Jemma’s cupid’s bow lips curved up in a smile. “Does that mean you reserve the right to complain about me?”

Skye moved closer to Jemma, sliding an arm around her waist.

“I would never,” she said. Her warm brown eyes were full to the brim with affection.

“And what about me?” Jemma pressed against Skye. Her eyes darted away for a moment, and her cheeks flushed pink. Even after dating Skye for a year, she was still the most hopeless, awkward flirt. She persevered bravely anyway. “Do I hold the right to complain about you?”

“I hope to god I don’t give you anything to complain about,” Skye said earnestly. She leaned forward and kissed Jemma, deep and long.

Jemma made a small noise of delight and wrapped her arms around Skye’s neck. They kissed for long enough that neither was satisfied with merely standing in the living room. They both wanted skin.

Skye pulled away slowly.

“Come up to my room?” she asked, kissing Jemma quickly on the neck as if she couldn’t help herself.

“With pleasure,” Jemma gasped.

Skye winked. “That’s the idea.”

They half ran, half tripped up the stairs to Skye’s bedroom.

Skye pushed Jemma against her closed door. Jemma gasped again as Skye kissed down her neck and ran a hand up beneath Jemma’s sweater. Her fingers toyed at the edge of Jemma’s bra, then slipped around to the back to unfasten it.

Jemma reached down and twisted the door handle. They both almost fell as the door flew open, but Skye caught Jemma. They froze for a second in a position almost identical to a dip in a waltz.

Jemma giggled, then Skye giggled, then they were both laughing ecstatically as they collapsed on Skye’s bed.

Skye straddled her girlfriend, pulled her own shirt off, and leaned down to kiss her again as Jemma wriggled out of her top.

Now Jemma was bare from the waist up. Her chest rose and fell. Her hair fanned out behind her head in mahogany waves on Skye’s white sheets. She smiled wider as Skye drank in the sight of her like a girl dying of thirst.

“You are so, so beautiful, Jemma,” she said. “I can’t even put it into words.”

“I feel the same way,” Jemma replied. She sat up and ran a hand through Skye’s hair, sliding the other across the swell of Skye’s soft breasts.

Skye’s bra was tossed away somewhere in the process of pulling each other closer, Jemma biting at Skye’s bottom lip, and Skye putting a hand down the back of Jemma’s jeans.

Jemma hummed happily, moving both of her own hands to Skye’s ass. Skye gently pushed her back down onto the bed and kissed along her throat, sucking a mark there.

“Skye,” Jemma said in what she tried to make a warning tone but really came out as more of a sigh.

“You wear those collared shirts all the time anyway,” Skye muttered between kisses.

She moved lower, down to Jemma’s chest. Skye took a nipple between her lips and used her hands to tackle the task of unbuttoning Jemma’s pants. Jemma shooed Skye’s hands away and undid the button and zipper herself, gesturing for Skye to do the same.

Skye went back to kissing her way down Jemma’s body. Jemma squirmed and sighed when Skye nipped at the insides of her thighs.

Her voice, already high and breathy, rose an octave when Skye put her mouth on Jemma’s clit. She held Jemma’s hips down as Jemma grabbed at her hair, pulling and letting out a stream of “oh, oh,  _oh_.”

Skye’s right hand, from where she had been rubbing slow circles on Jemma’s hip with her thumb, slid down Jemma’s thigh and toward the wet heat beneath her tongue. She looked up and met Jemma’s wide eyes as she pushed a finger, slowly, inside. Jemma gasped and arched her back.

She pushed forward to meet the rhythm Skye set with her mouth and her hand, the word “more” tripping off her lips.

“Skye, _Skye_ ,” Jemma cried out, and her whole body shook as her climax hit her in waves.

Skye sat back on her heels and slowly licked her lips. Jemma’s thighs were still trembling when she lunged forward and pressed their mouths together.

Skye melted into her. They both fell back toward the head of the bed. Jemma rolled them over so that Skye was on her back, one leg hooked over Jemma’s hip. She caressed Skye’s face, her breasts, her legs, and finally touched her where she ached for it.

“Please, Jemma,” Skye begged. “Please.”

Jemma fucked Skye with two fingers and rubbed her clit with her thumb. Skye thrusted and clenched and writhed around her. She didn’t stop begging.

Jemma ran her tongue along Skye’s collarbone.

“I love you, so very much,” she whispered into her girlfriend’s skin.

Skye grunted. “ _God_ , Jem,” and she came.

They both lay, dizzy and winded, staring at the ceiling for a few long moments. Skye rolled onto her side and nuzzled past Jemma’s pile of hair to take her earlobe between her teeth. Jemma shivered.

She rolled over too, and now they were almost nose-to-nose. Jemma’s face was too blurry to focus on, but Skye kept her eyes open. Their faces drifted together inexorably, like celestial bodies pulled by the puppet-strings of gravity.

Jemma’s long eyelashes brushed against her freckled cheeks. Skye wondered before every kiss if Jemma would taste the same as she always did: mint gum and honey lemon tea.

Just before their lips met, they heard the garage door open.

“Shit,” Skye hissed. “My parents shouldn’t be home this early.” She grabbed the two t-shirts off the floor and threw one on, tossing the other at Jemma.

By some miracle, they managed to both be fully dressed and feigning casual TV watching in the living room by the time Skye’s parents got inside.

“Oh, hello Miss Simmons,” Mr. Coulson said as he walked in.

“Hi, Mr. Coulson!” Jemma said a little too brightly. Skye nudged her.

“You know I told you to call me Phil,” he said. “I’m a cool dad, remember?” He winked at Skye.

“Dad.” She shook her head. “Stop.”

Skye’s mom walked in right behind him.

“Hello, Ms. May,” Jemma greeted. Ms. May didn’t say to call her Melinda.

“Are you staying for dinner, Jemma?” she asked, not unkindly. “We’re having xian bing.”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

“I’d better get that started, then,” Phil said, heading for the kitchen. May started up the stairs to change out of her work clothes.

“I think we did it,” Skye muttered, quiet enough that even her mother wouldn’t hear over the television.

“They don’t suspect a thing,” Jemma said proudly.

A few minutes later, May came back down to help her husband with dinner. She stopped by the couch and bent down slightly, as if imparting a secret.

“By the way, Jemma?” She pointed to Jemma’s shoulder. “That’s Skye’s shirt.”

 

Jemma burned with embarrassment throughout dinner, while Skye spent the whole night trying not to burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Phil asked three times.

“Just a private joke, I’m sure,” May assured him.


	2. Chapter 2

Three days later, Skye’s friends showed up at her house for their more-or-less biweekly movie and pizza night. Bobbi and Hunter were butting heads again, this time over what the movie would actually be.

“You know I don’t like horror movies, Bob,” Hunter whined. Skye idly wondered if they were currently in the on or off stage of their on-again-off-again relationship. She and Trip would have to finally start that betting pool they always talked about.

“It’s _The Cabin in the Woods_. It doesn’t even count as a horror movie,” Bobbi replied, waving the DVD box in his face. “It’s a parody of a horror movie, and I know for a fact you’ve seen every single part of the Scary Movie franchise.”

“It’s not really a parody,” Jemma interrupted. “It’s actually a piece of metacinema, in which the conventions of the genre, and by extension the creation of the film itself, _are_ the plot…”

She trailed off as Bobbi and Hunter stared blankly. Skye patted Jemma’s arm in sympathy.

Jemma leaped up when the doorbell rang, the tips of her ears turning pink.

“That must be Trip with the pizza,” she said unnecessarily. Skye shook her head fondly and wandered to the kitchen to grab another bottle of cherry Coke, which Trip drank like it was water, in preparation for his arrival.

As she left the room, Skye heard Fitz pick up where Jemma had left off: “She’s right, you know. There’s a difference between parody and meta, and even between parody and satire when you get right down to it. A lot of people, incorrectly of course, consider the two interchangeable.”

 

* * *

 

Mack didn’t get off work until after nine o’clock, so he missed the first half of the movie. By the time he made it to Skye’s house, everyone had drifted toward their usual positions sprawled across her living room: Bobbi sat cross-legged in one reclining chair, hogging the popcorn; Hunter slouched in the other chair, his posture abysmal even by lanky teenage boy standards; Skye and Jemma huddled in their nest of pillows on the floor; Trip was spread out on one end of the couch; and Fitz sat at the other, casually using Jemma’s shoulder as a footrest.

Mack edged his way around the empty pizza boxes, soda cans, and various people’s limbs to make it to the couch where Fitz sat.

“Scoot over, Turbo,” he muttered, patting Fitz on the arm. Fitz seemed almost startled by the contact.

“Oh, right, sure.” Fitz didn’t have a lot of room to move toward the center of the couch with Trip’s long legs in the way, so he and Mack were pressed close together. Neither of them seemed to mind.

Mack had one arm hanging over the back of the couch, trying to be casual, but his fingers kept twitching as if wanting desperately to move down around Fitz’s shoulders.

Fitz’s phone lit up. Trip laughed and kicked him gently.

“Why are you so popular tonight, man?” Trip asked. This was obviously not the first time this evening it had happened. Jemma shushed him, trying to hear the movie.

“No reason,” Fitz deflected in a whisper.

Mack ignored it the next three times Fitz got a notification. By the fourth, Fitz was getting noticeably twitchy and Mack couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at his screen.

Fitz had a Facebook chat open. There were handfuls of long incoming messages. Fitz hadn’t replied to any of them with more than three words. Mack didn’t have time to read what had been sent, but he got a look at who was doing the sending before Fitz hid the screen away.

“Hey, buddy.” Mack nudged Fitz’s knee. “Maybe put the phone away for the rest of the movie? We don’t want everyone else getting distracted.” Mack’s encouraging smile covered a deep layer of concern.

Fitz hesitated.

When Mack finally slid an arm down around his shoulders, the tension bled out of Fitz. He nodded and put his phone, screen side down, on the table by the couch.

By the time the movie was over, Fitz had his head tucked neatly under Mack’s.

 

* * *

 

On the nights when nobody slept over at Skye’s after their group movie sessions, Mack usually stayed late to help clean up.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Skye said, as always. “I mean, not even Trip The Eagle Scout stuck around for the aftermath this time.”

“He was Fitz and Jemma’s ride home,” Mack pointed out as he tossed another soda can in a trash bag.

“Still, it’s not fair that you’re such a stand-up guy,” Skye joked. “You make the rest of us look bad.”

There was a long pause.

Mack opened his mouth, on the verge of saying something, two times before Skye bluntly told him to spit it out already.

“I’m worried about him.” Mack wrung the trash bag in his wide hands uncertainly. “Fitz, that is. You’ve known him longer than I have, so if you’re not seeing it then maybe I’m just paranoid, but.”

Skye froze, staring hard at Mack.

“Worried how?” she asked slowly.

“His ex, that guy you and Jemma are always talking shit about? Grant something…”

“Ward.” Skye’s gaze got even more intense. “What about him?”

Mack paused again before shaking his head.

“I shouldn’t have looked at his messages. I shouldn’t even know who he was talking to, but he seemed so on edge and I… Never mind.”

“Mack, tell me."

“No. It was a violation of privacy in the first place. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Mack went back to stuffing garbage in the bag.

Skye walked closer to Mack and forced him to look her in the eye. He had almost a foot of height on her, but she had a commanding presence and the tenacity of an angry bulldog.

“Mack,” she said softly. “Do you know why Jemma and I hate Grant Ward so much?”

Mack shrugged. “I guessed he broke Turbo’s heart? Doesn’t exactly make me want to know the guy myself.”

Skye shook her head.

“It’s not just that. They didn’t just have a bad breakup, okay? Ward, he--” Skye swallowed. “Leo doesn’t like talking about it, so it makes sense you don’t know, but Ward…Ward lied to him, constantly. He acted like the perfect gentleman half the time, but sometimes he would disappear for weeks, not talk to Leo, barely look at him, and then come back and act like nothing happened.

He told him he couldn’t come out because of his family, which is probably true, but he used that as an excuse for _everything_. He practically dragged Leo back in the closet. He got him to do his homework, for god’s sake. He told me and Jemma about one of their ‘study dates,’ where Grant’s homework was super fucking important, but as soon as that was out of the way and Leo wanted to do his own, it was totally time to make out for two hours.”

“The guy’s a bigger asshole than I thought,” Mack said.

Skye laughed, sharp and stinging. “Oh, I’m not done. I know for a fact that Ward cheated on him at least twice. The second time, Leo found out. He tried to confront him about it, and that went worse than anybody imagined.” Skye had murder in her eyes.

“What happened?” Mack was almost afraid to hear the answer.

“Ward got defensive. Then he got angry. Then, he got violent.”

“Jesus,” Mack breathed.

“Jemma was there the last time those two talked. It was a couple of days later, and I guess that dick knew his charade of actually giving a shit about his so-called boyfriend had ended. They asked him to apologize. Well, it was definitely a demand coming from Jemma, but you get the point. So what do you think he did?”

Mack shook his head. “I’m guessing he didn’t apologize like a decent human being.”

“He laughed. Then he told Leo, right in front of Jemma, that he was an idiot for thinking he would have actually loved him. He said something about thinking Fitz was desperate and kind of cute, and knowing he could get him to do his homework and get a blowjob out of it.”

Mack winced, but he stayed silent.

“I heard all of this from Jemma,” finished Skye, “who was kind of incoherent with rage at the time, but she has an excellent memory. So,” Skye’s tone was sarcastically casual. “What was it you were saying about Fitz’s ex?”

“Ward was the one messaging him all night,” Mack said, the truth putting his own minor infraction in perspective. “I don’t know what he was saying, but it definitely wasn’t good.”

“How would you like to be part of a plan to fuck up Grant Ward’s life?” Skye proposed.

“You know I don’t really approve of your revenge plot.”

“That was before you knew why we had a revenge plot in the first place.”

“Good point.” Mack held out his hand for Skye to shake. “I’m on board. Whatever’s necessary to give this son of a bitch what’s coming to him.”


	3. Chapter 3

The plan, in the end, fell together faster than anyone expected.

Skye got a text from Bobbi the next week that said

**Lance has an idea that might not be shit for once.**

Three hours later, the unofficial team that Skye nicknamed “Agents of Justice” gathered around a table in The Hub Cafe.

Jemma cleared her throat. “I’m happy everyone could make it. We all know why we’re here, so let’s get down to business.”

“Quick question, before we start.” Trip raised one hand and gestured to the chair across from him where Raina sat regally. “What the hell is she doing here?”

Skye’s thumb had hovered over Raina’s name in her contacts for ten minutes before she finally swallowed her pride. Jemma hadn’t exactly been happy about it, but they both agreed in the end.

“She offered to help,” Skye answered. “It’s an enemy-of-my-enemy situation.”

Raina raised an eyebrow at Trip as if daring him to make a scene. He shrugged and appeared to let it go.

“Okay, so, what was that idea you talked about, Bobbi?” Jemma said.

“It was mostly Lance’s idea, actually,” Bobbi said. “But you know how my uncle is a firefighter? He was telling me about one time he ended up on the wrong side of the hose. Apparently it hurts like a bitch.”

“And so I said,” Hunter butted in proudly, “dousing Ward with one of those would be a real joy to watch.”

“Cops would use them to break up civil rights protests,” Mack said. “Still do, sometimes. If the pressure’s high enough, those hoses can do some serious damage.”

“So what do you think?” asked Bobbi with a wide smile. “Is that the kind of damage we’re looking to do to Ward?”

“I certainly think so,” Jemma said. Her jaw was clenched tight and her eyes were hard. She lifted her cup of tea in a toast. “For Fitz.”

“Fitz,” everyone else echoed.

“Speaking of which, where is he?” asked Trip.

“He doesn’t like to talk about this stuff,” Skye answered around a sip of Mountain Dew. “Retribution is all on us.”

Mack looked away.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Skye’s phone lit up with a text from Raina.

**Ward will be alone in the parking lot of the Playground by 11:45 on Friday.**

**There is a fire hydrant close by.**

**I’m waiting for you there with the necessary arrangements.**

**You’re welcome.**

She was in the middle of discussing with Jemma just how much they should trust Raina’s intel when Trip ran up to them, excited.

“He’ll be in the parking lot of that baseball field on fifty-first street,” Trip told them. “The one people call the Playground, getting drunk with the other wrestling guys on Friday. Apparently he’s pretty much always the last one there, so if we show up a little before midnight we’ll catch him alone. Guys? Are you even listening?”

 

* * *

 

“Raina?” Skye stared in shock. She had made her way to the Playground as soon as Trip confirmed what Raina said, wondering what the “necessary arrangements” were. “Where did you get a fire engine?”

“Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies.”

 

* * *

 

The logistics were worked out in two days. The fire engine, parked around the side of the wall that surrounded the field, was hidden from the view of anyone in the parking lot as well as most people on the street. This part of town didn’t see much traffic anyway, hence the reason wrestling team meatheads gathered there to wreak havoc.

Skye planned for everyone to arrive by 11:30 and start setting up.

“We all need to park a block over and come in from the other side of the field. If Ward sees us, he’ll know something’s up.”

“Skye,” Mack pulled her aside. “I don’t know if I’m exactly comfortable with this whole thing.”

“You know what he did.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I want to be a part of this anymore. I’m sorry.”

Skye nodded. “He’ll get what’s coming to him either way. Thanks for all your help.”

Mack clapped her on the shoulder.

“My pleasure.”

 

* * *

 

Skye sent Raina a text detailing the when and the where, but all she got in return were two words:

**Good luck.**

Skye replied, confused:

**Aren’t you coming??**

She could practically hear Raina’s flippant tone when the next message came in.

**I don’t like to get my hands dirty.**

Raina signed her texts with a flower emoji.

 

* * *

 

Mack had just managed to finally distract himself from staring at the clock every five seconds with a game of Grand Theft Auto when his phone buzzed.

“What’s up?” he answered, not pausing the game.

“Mack,” Fitz’s voice came through the speaker. “Where are you right now?”

“At home, playing some GTA. You should join me, might actually win this time.”

“No, Mack, listen,” Fitz sounded panicked. “I need you to come get me.”

“You want to play over here?” Mack asked, though he knew that wasn’t what this was about. His heartbeat kicked up a notch as he put down the controller.

“I tried to text Jemma,” Fitz explained in a rush. “She said she couldn’t hang out tonight because she was busy. She told me about their plan. Mack, I need to stop them. I can’t let this go on any longer. I can’t deal with it anymore.” He sounded on the edge of tears. His voice cracked. “Please.”

Mack watched the man on his screen fly through the air in slow motion, surrounded by exploding cars.

“I’ll be right there.”

 

* * *

 

“He says he wants to apologize,” Fitz said, breaking the long silence in the cab of Mack’s truck as they drove to the Playground. “He tried to corner me at school a few times, but I’m almost always with Jemma and she wants to claw his eyes out, so that didn’t work.”

“You think he means it?” asked Mack. “Are you gonna forgive him?”

“Hell no,” Fitz said emphatically, the answer to both questions. Then he said “But I want to let it go.”

“That’s probably healthy.”

“But he’s always trying to talk to me. I had to turn off Facebook notifications on my phone, which makes keeping up with the robotics club group chat a nightmare.”

“So maybe he needs to be taught a lesson.”

Fitz stared out the window into the night speeding away past them. “Maybe. But not at the cost of anyone else’s pain.”

 

* * *

 

The plan went flawlessly.

Bobbi and Hunter did a perfect job of hooking up the truck and hoses to the nearby fire hydrant. The boisterous boys from the wrestling team, half of whom were stumbling drunk, didn’t notice a thing, even when Hunter stubbed his toe and shouted curses for ten seconds straight.

The last of them left, Ward waving them off, by the time Raina said they would. Ward leaned against his motorcycle and whistled a gentle tune.

His face, when Skye and Jemma emerged from the dark into a pool of light spilling from the streetlamp, was priceless.

The sound he made when they knocked him to his knees with the hoses was even better.

The plan went flawlessly, until Mack and Fitz showed up.

Skye saw Fitz first, running from Mack’s pickup truck like a bat out of hell with Mack following behind.

“I thought you didn’t want to join the party,” Skye called to Mack. He didn’t smile.

“Guys! Guys, stop!” Fitz shouted. “Please, just leave him alone.”

“After what he did to you?” Jemma asked, finally noticing the newcomers. She was flabbergasted.

“He hit you!” Skye said, just as surprised as her girlfriend.

“I don’t need to be reminded of that,” Fitz told her. “And it was once.”

“That is one time too many.” Jemma leveled her hose straight at Ward’s face. The water bowled him over and left him spluttering on his back. She didn’t let up. “Grant Ward is an evil fucking piece of scum who deserves to be hit by a car!”

The edges of Jemma’s voice were like broken glass. The hard hatred and cruelty that turned her delicate hands into vices around the hose knocked the wind out of Skye. All of a sudden, the elation of righteousness she had felt in plotting and executing the plan turned to ice as she saw what it was doing to the girl she loved.

There was something corrupt in their revenge.

“I hate him as much as you do, Jemma,” Fitz pleaded, “but I just want this all to be over. I want to never have to see him or think about him ever again, and I can’t do that with all of you constantly searching for new ways to make him suffer. Because that forces me to remember how he hurt me. And remembering that? That…” Fitz’s voice dropped to something soft and weary. “That makes me suffer, too.”

Jemma’s hose thumped as it hit the ground. Its stream of water turned into a widening pool on the asphalt.

She trembled for a few seconds, eyes flicking between the boy on the ground and the one begging her to let him go. Finally, her gaze stayed fixed on Fitz.

She ran to throw her arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed into his shoulder. He put a hand in her hair and nodded.

“You did it because you love me,” he whispered. “But you shouldn’t let that love turn into something ugly.”

Skye spared a warning glance at Ward and dropped her own hose. She nodded at Bobbi, who turned off the water, and went to lay her hand on Fitz’s shoulder.

They stood like that for a long time, a tangle of kids letting love wash away regret and pain.

“Um,” Ward coughed. “I don’t mean to ruin this touching moment, but--”

“You.” Skye took a step toward him. “Do not get to talk. You’re going to get on your douchey motorcycle, go home, and live the rest of your douchey life without so much as looking at any of us ever again. Got it?”

Ward clenched his jaw, but he nodded.

“Remember,” Mack rumbled as Ward slunk past him, “we know where to find you, and we’re not afraid to get creative.”

“Don’t threaten me,” Ward snarled.

“Then don’t be a threat.”

Ward’s gaze slid back toward Fitz, and his mouth melted into a familiar smug grin. “Friendly warning, Mack: he’s needy. And he’s a biter. Just so you know what you’re getting int--”

The grin vanished when Mack socked Ward in the eye.

 

* * *

 

Mack walked Fitz to French class every day on his way to Engineering. They paused outside the door, where Fitz leaned up on his toes to kiss Mack on the cheek. Mack, in turn, bent to kiss Fitz on the top of his curly blond head.

This tiny ritual left identical, cotton candy-soft smiles on both of their faces.

“This is so sweet,” Skye said, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Oh, hush,” Jemma replied. She tilted Skye’s chin toward her and breathed across her lips. “Let’s give them a run for their money, shall we?”

“Now there’s a plan I can get behind.”


End file.
